


Mark you

by Lucy_1991



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bloodplay, Dark Character, M/M, Non-Consensual, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crops, Sorry Not Sorry, To Be Continued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_1991/pseuds/Lucy_1991
Summary: He circled the boy, moving the riding crop across his pale skin."Where else should I mark you?"~Please give it a shot, I promise, it's worth it :D~





	1. Blinded

"Jeremiah. Stop." - Bruce yelled as he was trying to free his hands from the bindings. The ropes were thightly wrapped around his wrists, surely leaving bruises. They were held up over his head, the ropes tied to the ceiling at the center of one of the bright rooms in Jeremiah's maze. This one was somewhere in the middle of it, this much Bruce could tell.

 

He was wearing his usual clothes, now a blue colored pullover. As his arms were raised, a small part of his skin was peeking out from under the shirt. The air was chilly and he could feel goosebumps form on the snow-white skin of his stomach. His face seemed stern, mouth spressed in a thin line, but his eyes were filled with tears. He tried to blink them away, but one escaped anyway, rolling down his flushed cheeks.

 

Jeremiah was standing in front of a white cabinet next to the locked door of the room. He was facing the still closed cabinet, his back to Bruce. His head was raised, arms by his sides. He was wearing a green and purple colored three-piece suit, purple pants and shiny brown shoes. His usual outfit, only the hat was missing, showing his slicked-back red hair. 

 

"Brucie, Brucie, Brucie..." - He whispers slowly in his usual tone, calm and collected. A little pause between every word, giving it a chilling rythm. Bruce felt a shiver run along his spine. - "Why should I stop, when this..." - he turned around, arms spread wide - "...is so much fun." - Jeremiah smirked, looking Bruce dead in the eyes. 

 

Jeremiah wasn't like his brother. He was insane too, yes, - even though he didn't admit it - but he didn't laugh. He rarely did. He only smirked and, sometimes, grinned. But even when he did, it wasn't a simple crazy one like Jerome's. 

 

It was one of the damned. The one that screams madness yet holds some kind of twisted dignity to it. And it was terrifiyng. 

 

He walked over to Bruce, slowly. - "What do you think is going to happen?" - He asked in a curious tone. He sounded genuinely interested in what Bruce was thinking. Not like it matters. Jeremiah has already planned everything he was going to do and say to Bruce. Every single thing. He stopped just half feet away from the boy, holding his gaze, challenging him, even. 

 

Bruce - even in situations like this - wasn't one to show his fear. He looked back into the madness of those grey eyes, not blinking once. - "You are gonna kill me." - He answered, voice sounding calm.

 

"Kill you?" - Jeremiah looked genuinely surprised. - "Do you think I played with you for this long just to..." - he raised his hands in front of him - "...kill you?"

 

"This is what your brother wanted. Jerome-" - Bruce started but stopped as Jeremiah's palm came in contact with his face, leaving a red mark. Head turning to the side, Bruce coughed, cheek burning. Yes, this is exactly what he wanted. To make Jeremiah mad, push him out of his usual balance. 

 

"Don't you dare compare my plans to that pathetic psychopat's!" - He yelled, index finger pointing at Bruce's face. He was breathing heavily, a hard expression on his pale face. The boy turned his face back to look at the madman. Jeremiah seemed to be searching his face for a while before his expression softened as if something just clicked into his head. - "If I think about it..." - his hand falling from in front of Bruce's face - "...compare me to him. Compare sane to mad. Compare genius to foolish."

 

He turned around yet again, going straight to the cabinet. Bruce squirmed in his bonds, trying to loosen the grip of the ropes. No use. Jeremiah opened the white doors and took out something black. He held it in front of him carefully, so Bruce couldn't see what it was. He didn't want Bruce to see. He wanted Bruce to feel.

 

He pulled out something else from the cabinet too, but he held this one on the side, away from himself so Bruce would know what's gonna happen. He could hear the boy gasp a few moments after he presented the item to him, when Bruce realized what it was for. - "Taking away one's ablity to see..." - he walked over to Bruce again after closing the doors of the cabinet, holding a red silk blindfold in one hand, clear to see. His other hand behind his back, hiding a surprise. - "...the touches shall feel more intense."

 

"Jeremiah, I swear if you do this-"

 

"What then, Brucie? Hmm?" - Jeremiah mocked Bruce while walking around him, so he's behind the boy. He put the "surprise" to the ground - where Bruce still couldn't see it - and raised his hands to put the silk over his eyes. Bruce squirmed again, trying to escape, pull away, anything just get away from Jeremiah but he merely chuckled and tied the blindfold on the back of Bruce's head. - "Don't fight it Bruce." - He picked up the "surprise" and walked around the boy again, stopping right before him. He admired the trembling boy for a few moments before talking again. - "Another guess about what I'm going to do to you?"

 

Bruce inhaled sharply as he felt something cold slide over the skin of his belly. - "Let me fucking go!" - Bruce started trashing around but Jeremiah planted a firm grip on his throat, squeezing tightly. The boy stopped, gasping for air. 

 

"Now, now. There's no need for such harsh words. I simply asked you a question. Well?" - Jeremiah asked and Bruce could hear the smirk in his voice. He could feel that cold thing slide over the same part of skin again. - "What is this, my darling boy?" 

 

Bruce could feel Jeremiah's breath against his lips and he took this moment to spit in his face. Jeremiah let go of his throat and backed away a bit. He groaned, cleaning his face with his free hand. - "Now, that was an ugly thing to do, wasn't it?" - This was all Jeremiah asked before Bruce felt a sharp pain on his belly. He hissed before Jeremiah hit him again. - "Do you know what this is yet ?" - Another hit on the same spot and Bruce clenches his teeth. - "Oh, aren't you strong?" - Jeremiah hits the same spot twice quickly and this time Bruce lets out a high-pitched whine.

 

"That's it boy, let it out. Let me hear you. Since you didn't even attempt to guess what this is, I think I can tell you now." - One more hit - "This is a riding crop. It's more painful than if I'd hit you simply with my hands. Especially if you hit one spot severeal times. It can easily break the skin. Drawing blood. Leave bruises. Given that you can't see, I have to tell you that this spot..." - He moved the crop over the bruise on Bruce's belly and the boy hissed again - "...is already bleeding. But you see, I wouldn't want it to leave a spot on your shirt. So..." - Bruce heard the sound of clothes being ripped and felt a cold rush of air on his skin. - "...much better."

 

He circled the boy, moving the riding crop across his pale skin. 

 

"Where else should I mark you?"

 

~To be continued~


	2. Jerome's favourite rhyme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter involves some (kinda?) bloodplay. If that's not your thing, then... Don't read it I guess ? 
> 
> For all the other psychos like me, hope y'all like it ^^

The shredded pieces of Bruce's blue pullover were lying on the floor around the boy's feet. Jeremiah was walking around him with slow steps and every time he dragged the riding crop over the boy's belly, he made sure that it would touch the bruise that he left minutes ago. Every time it did, he could hear Bruce hiss. He was trying to look strong but Jeremiah knew better. He saw the dark dots that appeared on the crimson coloured silk; it soaked up all the tears that left the boy's eyes. When Jeremiah's done with Bruce for the day, the whole blindfold will wear a darker red. Will it be darker because of the tears or blood, Jeremiah hadn't decided yet.

 

"I have to admit, I've never understood my brother's obsession with you. But seeing you like this; trembling..." - standing behind Bruce, he placed one of his cold hands on the back of his neck, enjoying the shiver that run through the boy - "...vulnerable..." - he moved to grab Bruce's throat and squeezed. He took a step closer to the shaking figure in front of him, his whole body now flush against Bruce's. The boy could feel Jeremiah's obvious bulge against his lower back and he almost screamed. - "...completely at my mercy... I have to say, this gives me all the explanations I needed." - He chuckled and grinded against Bruce before moving away.

 

"You see, when we are finished with..." - Jeremiah waved his hand around as if unable to find the right words - "...this, you will have a lot of scars. Just like me! Do you want to know how I got them?" - Jeremiah took off his coat and dropped it to the floor carelessly. He rolled up one of his sleeves only to reveal the scabs on his wrist; those painful childhood memories. He touched the scars against Bruce's lips - "Feel them. Memories. Gifts, you could say..." - he paused, thinking for a moment - "...from Jerome."

 

Jeremiah sighed, but before he could move his hand away from Bruce's mouth, the boy bit him, drawing blood. - "A gift... from me!" - Bruce hissed through gritted teeth, his lips red from the man's blood. Jeremiah yelped and backed away, drops of blood rolling down his fingers and falling to the floor. Bruce tasted the blood and almost threw up. He tried to spit it out, get rid of that iron-like taste, but Jeremiah covered his mouth with his palm.

 

"Oh, no, Brucie, swallow it! You can't expect me to let you make such a mess." - he lauhed and it reminded Bruce more of Jerome than Jeremiah. God, the guy's insanity gas did work after all. Bruce shook his head, trying to shake the man's hand off of his face with little success. The only thing he achieved with this action was Jeremiah pinching his nose so Bruce couldn't breathe. - "Swallow or die, Brucie, it's your decision." - The boy knew that Jeremiah wouldn't kill him just because he made the man bleed. He knew he didn't have to swallow the blood, that the man would eventually let go of his face, but his body didn't seem to realize this. As if his survival instinct was just switched on, he chose breathing and swallowed. Jeremiah was transfixed as he watched Bruce's adams apple move as his own blood rolled down the boy's throat. 

 

Jeremiah let go of his face, eyes still on Bruce's pink throat. The boy sucked in a breath and started gagging, feeling like he could easily throw up even though his stomach was empty. He has obviously tasted blood before but even then, it was his own. Times like when he got in a fight and took a few punches. But this taste on his tongue felt like... the wrongest feeling in the world. The most disgusting taste. It tasted different than his own did. It tasted like it had more iron in it and more... something he couldn't put a name to. Was this what insanity tasted like?

 

Bruce swallowed hard and fought the urge to vomit. He felt his eyes well up with tears again, the silk soaking it all up. 

 

-"My. God. I have to admit Brucie, I wanted you to swallow something else, but this was just..." - Once again, Jeremiah couldn't find the right words. This doesn't usually happen. Strange. - "...exquisite." - he whispered the last word as if it wasn't even for Bruce but himself.

 

Just as he saw the boy's breathing settle to normal, Jeremiah swinged the riding crop that he was still holding in his hand. The crop met Bruce's skin with a loud smack and the boy cried out because of the sudden impact. - "But..." - Jeremiah hit again, aiming for Bruce's ribcage this time. He hit him free times in a row. The silk became a shade darker. - "...exquisite as this was, you still need to be punished." - One more hit on the boy's ribs, breaking the skin there. - "I mean, I was going to punish you anyway, but now I have a reason, at least."

 

Jeremiah stared at the broken skin on Bruce's chest for a moment. A few drops of blood were forming and then rolling down on the delicate skin.  _Exquisite._ He kneeled down in front of Bruce, grabbing his hips with one hand, squeezing a bit. Not forcefully, only enough to remind Bruce who was  _in charge._ He leaned close to the bruise forming on the boy's ribs and licked away the blood. Bruce gasped at the sudden feel of Jeremiah's tongue against his skin and tried to move away, but the man's hand was keeping him in one place. "Jesus, Bruce, you taste so good on my tongue." - he chuckled. One more lick on the wound and then he closed his lips around it, biting and sucking on the already bruised skin. 

 

"Stop!" - Bruce cried out and was more than surprised when Jeremiah complied. He looked up at the boy's face, examining it.

 

"Beg." - Jeremiah whispered and Bruce wasn't sure if he heard him right. Okay, it was quite obvious that the guy had some kind of real serious god-complex but begging? Really?

 

"What?" - Bruce asked more out of surprise than because he couldn't hear it. Jeremiah seemed to know this given that he leaned back in and bit on the bruise once again. The boy yelped and Jeremiah smirked.

 

"Beg. Beg for me to stop."

 

"Wh- I won't beg for you! God, you're the last person I'd b-" - his sentence was cut short when Jeremiah rose to his feet and delivered 5 hits quickly to his chest. 

 

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" - Hit. - "You know, those scars. Where they are now, where Jerome cut me... I could say they are somehow random, yet not. The thing is, you see... Jerome loved rhymes." - Jeremiah dragged the crop over the already red and purple bruises. - "That's how he decided where the next scar shall be. With fucking rhymes." - His anger rose and he hit Bruce again. This hit was stronger than all the previous ones, inatantly breaking the skin. It left Bruce gasping for air, trying not to focus on the pain. The silk became a shade darker around his eyes.  - "He had one particular favourite. I'm going to tell it to you. When it ends, wherever the crop is that time, that's where I'm going to hit you. Beg and I'll stop. It's as easy as that."

 

Bruce's whole front was burning, aching. However humiliating it is, he considered begging even before Jeremiah started the rhyme. It would be much easier than taking more hits. Bruce didn't think there was any part on his front where Jeremiah hadn't hit him yet. 

 

"So it went something like this... 'Cups and saucers ready for tea..." - Jeremiah started, tapping the crop against different parts of skin to the rythm of the rhyme. Shoulder, collarbone, nipple, sternum. - "...How many are we?.." - Belly and hips - "...one, two, three.' Oh, how unlucky." - That's all Jeremiah said before swinging the crop with full strenght and bringing it down hard against Bruce's left nipple. Bruce screamed as the sharp pain spread through his entire body. His legs nearly gave in under him, only the ropes keeping him upright. - "Are you going to beg or shall I go again?"

 

The boy lifted his head, the bright light coming from the ceiling's lamp making the soaked silk shine.

 

Bruce opened his mouth to answer, lips trembling...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, just to be clear, since I'm not english, I don't know if I did the rythm of the rhyme correctly. How I did it was:
> 
> 'Cups and' - shoulder  
> 'Saucers' - collarbone  
> 'Ready for' - nipple  
> 'Tea' - sternum  
> 'How many' - belly  
> 'Are we' - hip  
> 'One' - Shoulder  
> 'Two' - collarbone  
> 'Three' - and that's how the crop ended up where it ended up, probably the most painful place of them all, oops #sorrynotsorry


	3. Beg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this took so long and is so bad, but like... Here you go, fam
> 
> Enjoy, y'all

Taking a deep breath, he closed his mouth again, not sure what to answer. But two things he knew: 1, He had to get out of that place and 2, If he didn't, Jeremiah would eventually kill him, no matter what. Why is he even thinking about this? Why is this something he has to consider? He's Bruce-freacking-Wayne, for God's sake. He could escape, he just needed a little time. If he played along with Jeremiah's game and answered 'yes', the psycho might've enjoyed it even more; thinking he's slowly breaking him. In that case, he may've wanted to "play" with him more, giving Bruce less time to figure out and execute an escape plan. If he said 'no', Jeremiah would either try even harder to break him or get bored and leave him for the day. He couldn't see any positive outcomes if his answer was 'yes', so he decided to take a chance on...

 

"No." It came out as a whisper much weaker than he intended it to be. His legs were trembling, body aching and his throat dry. Okay, he knew that him sounding unbreakable and all that wasn't quite possible right now, but still... He took a deep breath, collecting the little strength that was left in him and - a little louder this time - repeated. "No." 

 

Jeremiah had to admit, he was a little taken aback. Not surprised. This was Bruce Wayne after all, who always tried to seem strong, even when he wasn't. Yet the way the boy looked like now - covered in bruises, blood painting his lips - he expected that he would say 'please', at least. He could barely talk, for god's sake. 

 

"No, huh?" Jeremiah asked, his tone cold. "So this means that a simple beating doesn't break you, right?" He looked at Bruce for a moment before a sick grin appeared on his face. "Truth be told, I was kind of hoping that you'd keep your brave-little-boy image up.  _And you didn't disappoint."_  

 

With a few long steps he moved next to Bruce and took the blindfold off, dropping it on the floor to join the shards of clothes that were already resting there. The boy squinted as the bright light of the room hit his eyes but his vision adjusted quickly. Jeremiah was now standing in front of him again, that terrifying smile now visible for Bruce too. He shivered, feeling a wave of fear running through him. Jeremiah leaned even closer to his face, lips brushing against the boy's. Bruce tried to move away but Jeremiah put a hand on the back of his head, keeping him in place.

 

"I know that you only want to get yourself more time." Whispered Jeremiah, looking into Bruce's eyes. "I know you want to beg." He dropped the riding crop to the ground, his now free hand wandering to the boy's chest and dragging his fingers over it softly. "I know you want the pain to be gone." For emphasis, he scraped over some of his bruises where the skin was already broken, drawing more blood. "Just one word and I'll stop."

 

Bruce shivered and shut his eyes as he felt Jeremiah's hand make it's way down his stomach, smearing the red liquid on white skin. It was sticky and painful and Bruce just wanted it to be over. He wanted those hands gone, wanted th-

 

His thoughts were cut off as he felt fingers pulling at the waistband of his pants and underwear and his breath hitched, eyes shot open and wide. 

 

"Stop!"

 

"Beg." 

 

Pulling at the ropes tying him to the ceiling, Bruce was desperately trying to escape. To find a way out. However, the ropes were strong and his body was weak. He was exhausted and hurting. He was seriously considering begging, he just have to say 'please', just whisper it. It wasn't only a consideration anymore when Jeremiah's fingers mover lower.

 

"Okay, okay! Fine!" Bruce looked at the ground as much as he could in this position and took a shaky breath. "Please." The word was barely above a whisper and Jeremiah chuckled.

 

"More. I'm sure you can do better than that." He mused. 

 

"But you said th-" Jeremiah's hand moved further down, only inches away from...

 

"Fine! Please, I'm begging you, just... just stop." 

 

Bruce looked into the other's eyes. That was a bad decision. Jeremiah's eyes had a sparkle in them that the boy had never seen before. His pupils were dilated, the grey color of it only a thin line around the darkness. Bruce's breathing quickened at the other's low laugh and in the next second... Jeremiah kissed him quickly, just a peck on the lips but still made his pulse speed up.

 

"See you very soon." He beamed and removed his hands from the boy. Jeremiah left the room and Ecco came in, cutting the ropes and dragging Bruce to one of the walls. She placed the boy to the ground and locked a handcuff around one of his wrists. 

 

With the last bit of his strength, he grabbed the girl's hair, pulling at it. Ecco smiled at him, a pitying look, and batted his hand away. "Don't waste your energy. You'll need it." Standing up, she left too.

 

Bruce lifted his head a little, a small, weak smile decorating his face as the lights went out in the white room. 

 

Ecco didn't notice that one of her hairpins was missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to 'Earned it' by Nightcore while writing this... I'm so fucking sick
> 
> Also, who can find the Heath Ledger - Joker reference ? Just a small sentence, but I'm trying, okay?

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, so sry for every grammar mistakes♡


End file.
